Coming to Blows
by Small-Time Insanity
Summary: Two young men from the village of Riverwood have gone from being friends to enemies, causing tension within their families. Will their conflict be resolved, or will the war only encourage them?


**Coming to Blows**

The village of Riverwood was quiet, secluded, and hardly ever had bandits raiding the homes of the villagers. But there were two people who absolutely hated each other – Hadvar and Ralof.

They were only teenage boys, but already they knew where their futures were headed. Hadvar would join up with the Imperial Legion, the warriors of the Empire. Ralof would join the Stormcloaks, the rebel group of soldiers.

Hadvar and Ralof were arguing outside the Sleeping Giant inn.

"How could you side with those traitors?" shouted Hadvar.

Ralof laughed harshly. "Their cause is noble, unlike the Empire's. Their way of leading Skyrim is appalling."

"Noble, huh? You call killing the High King _noble?_ You're just as bad as Ulfric himself!"

"I consider that a compliment."

Without warning, Ralof punched Hadvar in the jaw. Hadvar staggered back, looking shocked.

Ralof laughed again. "You seriously think you have the guts to be a soldier? You can't even stand tall in a brawl! You're weak, like a rabbit, you useless-"

Hadvar lunged at Ralof with an angry cry and tackled him to the ground, punching Ralof in the gut. Ralof returned the blows heavily, kneeing Hadvar in the groin and pinning him to the dirt. Other villagers had crowded around them, some cheering, and some yelling anxiously for someone to stop them.

Hadvar rolled over and hit Ralof in the nose. He heard the crack as Ralof's nose broke.

Ralof retaliated and punched Hadvar in the eye, kicking at Hadvar and missing.

"_Enough!_"

Hadvar's uncle Alvor came rushing from his smithy and pulled the boys away from each other. He glared at both of them. "You two will stop this fighting now! Ralof, I'll be telling your sister about this. Hadvar, go home, now!"

Ralof and Hadvar glared at each other for a moment, both longing to continue the fight, and then departed for their homes. As he turned to go home, Hadvar heard Ralof wince as he straightened his nose.

When Hadvar entered his uncle's house his aunt Sigrid was cooking a stew at the fire. Sigrid was heavily pregnant with her first child, and everyone was excited for the baby's arrival. Sigrid looked up when she heard the door open.

"Hadvar, you're – what happened?"

She rushed towards Hadvar and sat him down on a chair, turning Hadvar's face from side to side.

"It's nothing, Aunt Sigrid. I'm fine."

"Nothing?" she shrieked anxiously. "You have a black eye and your face is bruised! Wait here, I'll get some ointment for your eye."

Sigrid went to a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of thick yellow liquid and poured some onto a linen cloth. Placing it in Hadvar's hand, she pressed it against his eye. Hadvar's eye stung as the ointment seeped onto his skin.

Alvor entered the house and kissed Sigrid on the lips. Then he turned to Hadvar.

"You have some explaining to do, young man," he said gruffly, frowning.

Hadvar crossed his arms. "There's nothing to explain," he said stubbornly.

His uncle pulled up a chair and sat beside Hadvar. "Listen, Hadvar. I know you and that Ralof kid don't like each other, but it was immature of you to start a brawl with him right in the middle of the town."

"He started it."

"I don't care who started the fight. All I and your aunt want to know is why you were fighting."

Sigrid returned to her stew. "Please, Hadvar? We won't get angry with you. Just tell us what happened."

Hadvar stared at the floor as he spoke. "I heard Ralof say that he was going to join the Stormcloaks when he came of age. I told him he was an idiot for wanting to be one of them, and he insulted me for saying that I was going to join the Imperial Legion. We started arguing, and then he hit me. And then the fight started."

Alvor shook his head, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "I swear you and Ralof are getting even more hostile around each other."

By the smell of it, Sigrid's stew was done. She poured the stew into three bowls and set them on the table. "Ok, I think that's enough for today. Let's just eat dinner and we'll talk about it in the morning."

Alvor and Hadvar nodded. Hadvar felt relieved to stop talking about it. The three of them ate the venison stew quietly. Once they were done, it was time to go to sleep. They all slept in the same room.

As Hadvar drifted off the sleep, he heard angry voices, trying their best to be quiet, down in the cellar. Hadvar, feeling suspicious, crept out of bed and snuck down to the stairs and listened. Alvor and Sigrid were arguing.

"What are we going to do with him? If he keeps this attitude up-," Alvor was saying.

Sigrid cut across him. "Alvor, we can't kick him out! We swore, when we took him in, we would take care of him. He has no other family, nowhere to go!"

"We cannot keep babying him like this, Dear. Hadvar's a grown man now, fifteen years of age, almost a man. He needs to learn how to control his anger, especially if he ever hopes to raise a family of his own one day."

Sigrid went quiet for a while. "I don't want to argue about this, Alvor. We have a child on the way. I just want things to be peaceful. Is that so much to ask?"

Alvor sighed. "You're right, Sigrid. Who knows? Maybe, Hadvar will pull his head in and settle this argument with Ralof and it will all be over."

"I hope so."

Hadvar quietly made his way back to bed, feeling guilty. He never meant to put his uncle and aunt under so much stress, especially while Sigrid was pregnant with his cousin. He lay in his bed, feigning sleep, as Alvor and Sigrid made their way to bed. Hadvar made an oath to himself. From this moment on, he was going to ignore any comments from Ralof that aggravated him.

"Why you so quiet today, boy?" asked Alvor.

Hadvar was helping his uncle out in the smithy, sharpening swords and daggers on the grindstone.

Hadvar shook his head, his messy brown hair brushing his forehead. "I just don't feel so well today," he lied lamely.

Alvor nodded. "I called over to Ralof's home while you were asleep."

Hadvar looked up, setting the dagger he was tempering on the table by the grindstone. "How come?"

"I want this dispute settled. Sigrid's under enough stress already…and I don't want to lose my child. So, if you won't pull yourself together for me, do it for your aunt."

Hadvar looked away, ashamed. "I will, Uncle," he said sadly. "I promise."

"You and I are going over to Gerdur's house this afternoon. We will settle this once and for all."

Hadvar nodded, grabbing an unsharpened sword. "Yes, Uncle."

Afternoon came, and Hadvar and Alvor went to Gerdur and Ralof's home. Alvor knocked in the door, and sure enough, it was Gerdur who answered. Blonde hair and the same surly face as her brother, Gerdur frowned at them.

"Ah, Alvor," she said, stepping aside to let them in. "I'm glad you could make it."

"As am I," replied Alvor.

Gerdur led Hadvar and Alvor into the backyard, where Ralof was whittling a piece of wood into a dagger. "What are they doing here?" he asked, glaring at Hadvar.

"They've come to – hey!"

Ralof got right in Hadvar's face, glaring at him coldly. Hadvar returned the glare just as coldly. "Get off my land, Imperial."

"Get out of my face, traitor."

"All right you two," hissed Alvor, stepping between the boys. "Sit down, both of you."

Hadvar and Ralof sat across from each other at the small table just by a blue mountain flower bush. Alvor sat beside his nephew; Gerdur sat beside her brother.

"As you both know, your disliking of each other is affecting both our families," said Gerdur.

Ralof shook his head. "He's the one with the problem, not me," he said coldly.

Alvor frowned at Ralof. "Ok, here's what's going to happen. You two can hate each other all you like, but there are a few conditions."

Hadvar listened quietly. Ralof glared at Alvor.

Gerdur flipped back her hair. "There will be no more brawls."

"Or arguments."

"And you two will not speak to each other. Agreed?"

Hadvar sighed. "I can agree to that," he said to Alvor.

Ralof groaned. "Fine, I'll stay out of his way."

Alvor grinned. "Then it is settled. Thank you for having us over, Gerdur."

Gerdur was looking relieved too. "Not a problem, Alvor. Give my best to Sigrid for me."

"I will." Alvor looked at Hadvar. "Before we leave, there is one more thing you must do."

Hadvar frowned. "Like what?"

"Both of you stand up and face each other."

Confused, Ralof and Hadvar stood up and faced each other.

"Now, shake hands."

Ralof rolled his eyes. Hadvar let out a little moan.

"Come now boys," said Gerdur sternly. "You are going to come of age soon. It's time you both learned to settle your arguments like adults. Now _shake hands_."

Ralof and Hadvar shook hands, and then quickly let go.

"Good, good," said Alvor. "Now, let's go home, Hadvar."

Hadvar and Alvor went back to the smithy. Sigrid was waiting there. Surprising Sigrid and Alvor, Hadvar hugged Sigrid.

"What is this for?" asked Sigrid, smiling.

"I'm sorry for stressing you all out," apologised Hadvar.

Sigrid grinned, ruffling Hadvar's hair. "I'm glad you apologised. And I'm glad you settled things out with Ralof."

"So am I," said Alvor.

"Now, when you two are done working, come inside for lunch. I'm making Elsweyr fondue."

And so it was settled. Hadvar and Ralof no longer argued, or fought with each other. But they still loathed each other. They came of age within that year, and Hadvar never lost his temper in an argument ever again. Ralof left to join the Stormcloaks, and Hadvar went to begin training with the Imperial Legion. They were certain that they would never see each other again.

But they were wrong. A few years later, they will face each other again, and they won't like it.


End file.
